


tethering

by santanico



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Face Slapping, Hand Jobs, Hotel Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 02:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13801755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santanico/pseuds/santanico
Summary: “Does it hurt?”Brian, to his credit, just sort of shrugs. He isn’t smiling, can’t quite keep up the playfulness anymore, but he hasn’t caved.“Do you want it to?”





	tethering

**Author's Note:**

> thanks as always to [notinthisarmy](notinthisarmy) for reading this over for me and making suggestions and edits

Griffin wouldn’t call it a competition, although Brian might, but Brian’s just like that.

Still, there’s something that feels like failure when Brian starts smiling through gritted teeth.

“Is this funny to you?” Griffin says, Brian’s barely suppressed giggle ringing in his head. Griffin takes hold of Brian’s jaw, thumb and index finger keeping him in place. Brian’s pressed against the mattress, Griffin straddling him. His head is sunk right into the center of one of Griffin’s hotel pillows, and even with his face held tight, Brian manages to look a little smug. 

“It’s a little funny,” Brian says, almost breathless. “Try something…” And here, Brian hesitates, blinking at Griffin and steeling himself. “New.”

Griffin’s chest tightens and then stutters, and he lets go of Brian’s face to sit up. Brian’s watching him intently now - he knows what he said but he still looks like he’s about to repeat it, blare the signal - and Griffin interrupts him, “Close your eyes.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Brian breathes, but he still does it, shuts his eyes and takes a long breath in through his nose, lets it out through his mouth. Griffin knows he’s stalling but it’ll probably work alright, probably make Brian a little tense.

He sits back, then leans forward, stretches his arms out in front of him to grip the headboard behind Brian. Brian hasn’t opened his eyes but his hands are moving at his side, touching the backs of Griffin’s bare thighs, squeezing. Normally Griffin would pin Brian when he moved like this, but Griffin promised, so instead he shuffles a little closer and rings a slap across Brian’s cheek.

Brian shivers beneath him. The slap is satisfyingly crisp, and like Brian’s voice, it echoes through the room. Brian’s throat tightens for a brief second and then relaxes, and Brian sighs. It’s an almost broken sound, but relieved.

“Quiet now?” Griffin says, and he ghosts the tip of his index finger over Brian’s still jaw. Brian clenches, then relaxes again, nods. “That’s all it takes?”

Brian opens one eye, a sort of experiment, and Griffin rides the instinct, hits him again. It’s full throttle and the impact is a little less perfect, but Brian reels, nevertheless. His eyes widen, his chest expands, his breathing comes in quick, tiny huffs.

“Does it hurt?”

Brian, to his credit, just sort of shrugs. He isn’t smiling, can’t quite keep up the playfulness anymore, but he hasn’t caved.

“Do you want it to?”

Sometimes Griffin wonders if what he’s saying is actually _anything_ short of ridiculous, but the way that Brian’s eyes flutter shut, his fingernails scraping the backs of Griffin’s thighs, almost desperate, tells him enough.

“Tell me, say it,” Griffin says. Brian shivers, presses his lips together. “Just say what you want. Admit to it.”

Brian lets out another little sigh. “Hit me again,” he says, more like a croak, and Griffin lets himself sort of laugh as he sits up again. He doesn’t pull back too far, doesn’t ever want the anticipation to overshadow the act. Quick, successive smacks, stinging little hits against the center of Brian’s cheek - that’s what works.

Griffin turns Brian’s face to show his left cheek. His right is blossoming pink and blotchy reds, all the blood rushing to the tender skin. His left side is smooth and only flushed with exhilaration - or exhaustion, or both - and Brian looks at Griffin, blinks, tilts his chin back and whines.

Every ounce of patience Griffin’s accumulated dissipates with that single gesture. He rakes his fingers down Brian’s skinny chest, leaving thin lines. Brian arches and whines again, a low and needy sound in the back of his throat, and Griffin crouches down to meet him, kisses Brian breathlessly, more teeth than mouth, more tongue in Brian’s throat than almost anything else. Brian ruts against Griffin, tries to meet his hips, but they’re positioned in such a way that it’s a nearly impossible task, especially for Brian, Brian who’s just a skinny kid beneath him, no leverage at all.

“C’mere, c’mere,” Griffin mumbles, and he crawls off Brian for just a moment, grabs the bottle of lube sitting on the bedside table, spurts too much onto his palm. He shifts back to Brian, who shivers as Griffin spreads his knees, wraps his warm fist around Brian’s cock.

Brian’s almost completely tuned out now, more low keening sounds than anything else, and Griffin takes advantage of the excess lube to rub between Brian’s legs, fingers wet to the skin under his balls, teasing and touching.

“Shit, shit,” Brian gasps, arching his hips. Griffin plays around a little more, tips of his fingers tracing along Brian’s hole. He maintains most of his focus on jacking Brian’s cock, slow and steady movements, rubbing his thumb under the head, along the vein on the side. Brian’s cock is hot and heavy, strained in Griffin’s hand, and Griffin knows if he just worked a little faster Brian would come in a minute, maybe two. But he wants this moment to last, wants to take every part of Brian and stitch it back into something else.

“C’mon, please,” Brian is saying, clenching and unclenching his fists in the sheets. Griffin pauses for a second, leaves his palm on Brian’s dick but hesitates with his fingers, and Brian’s impatient too, groans and tries to grind down on Griffin’s hand.

Griffin takes the lube again and Brian complains wordlessly as he squirts more onto his hands. It’s worth it for the ease his fingers slide into Brian’s ass, two at once, sinking into the heat inside him. Brian chokes and tenses, then relaxes, then tenses again as Griffin curls his fingers.

Brian’s more or less lost to him now, and Griffin revels in it, stroking Brian’s cock in time with sharp thrusts of his wrist. Brian’s arching up off the bed, his sweaty back sticking to the sheets, and Griffin says, “Just a little more,” almost entirely to himself. His wrists are starting to ache a little, and Brian’s forehead is shining, his hair stuck to skin, his fingers vice-gripping the sheets. Griffin pushes Brian a little farther, fucks a little harder, and there’s certainly nothing like it, watching Brian’s expression tighten, his eyes squeezing shut as a single sob racks his entire body.

It’s worth it, and Griffin knows he’s won, laughs with it as Brian sobs again, drier this time as the tears settle at the tips of his ears, in his hair. Griffin’s not thinking about anything else now and he works Brian’s cock, sloppy but secure, until Brian cries out one more time and comes into Griffin’s palm.

“There you go, there you go,” Griffin says. He knows how the repetition helps Brian calm down, so he says it a third time as Brian blinks rapidly. “You good? You good, kiddo?”

Brian makes a sharp grunt and gently kicks out his leg, and Griffin laughs anyway, pulls out his fingers and watches as Brian gasps and rolls over, away from Griffin.

“What? What’s wrong?” Griffin says, shifting towards the end of the bed. Brian wraps his arms around the pillow and squeezes it tight and makes another groan, long and overdrawn, enough to make Griffin smile again. “You’re good, yeah?”

Brian turns so Griffin can see half his face, still holding the pillow, his eyes still shiny and wet. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re an asshole.”

Brian looks at Griffin and Griffin sort of realizes just then that he’s still in boxers, hard-on visible through soft grey cotton.

“If asshole is the worst you can come up with, then I’m doing fine.”

Brian seems embarrassed, pressing his face back into the pillow. Griffin’s not going to push it, and he goes back to the edge of the bed, swings his legs over. 

He’s stretching out his arms, taking deep breaths, when Brian’s fingers brush his shoulder. “Hey,” Brian says, scooting to Griffin’s side. Griffin tilts his head back, looks at Brian. Brian’s skinny chest and hips, his thigh hiding his soft cock from Griffin’s view. And Brian, little shit that he is, doesn’t look at Griffin, just rolls over a bit onto the floor, settles between Griffin’s knees.

“You sure ‘bout this?” Griffin says, because he wouldn’t ask it, not with how exhausted Brian looks, how worn down. But he looks pleased too, a tiny smile on his thin lips, his eyes glassy but sharp. 

“Absolutely,” Brian says, and he starts to tug at Griffin’s underwear. Griffin’s cock is half as hard as it was now, but Brian sitting between his legs, determination in his face, kind of changes things pretty quickly.

Griffin’s not too picky when it comes to blow jobs, but there’s still something about Brian that always feels new. He’s careful not to be too repetitive, but never misses out on what makes good head _good_ , always questioning his own methods. He curls his tongue around the tip of Griffin’s cock and focuses his energy there, sucking and licking in varying motions before sinking down further. It’s a sight, too, not just a good feeling - Brian’s mouth stretching around Griffin’s cock as he swallows, Brian’s eyes flicking up to Griffin’s and then shutting slowly, something like a hint of humiliation and also buzzing pride on his face.

Brian bobs his head and Griffin hooks his fingers into the short curls at the line of Brian’s forehead. Brian seems determined to take more than he has before, and the head of Griffin’s dick is touching the back of Brian’s mouth, and Brian keeps pushing, gagging a little bit with every centimeter. Griffin doesn’t push, just holds, and Brian squeezes his eyes shut as he curves his tongue along the side and then swallows again. Griffin’s cock twitches and so do his hips, and Brian gags again and sinks back, then hums, and Griffin gives a sharp little thrust.

Brian groans, assurance that it’s good - not just alright, but truly good - and Griffin’s restraint melts away along with his patience. He tugs Brian’s hair, and the wet slide of Brian’s tongue, his lips, along the length of Griffin’s cock, sends bright bolts through Griffin’s entire body.

Brian gasps as he’s pulled off, looks up at Griffin with his mouth hanging open as he pants. Griffin wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and draws Brian’s face close again. “Close your mouth,” he says, softly, and Brian just nods, pressing his lips together, wetting them with his tongue, and then sitting patiently.

Griffin sighs and guides the head across Brian’s lips. The skin catches, just enough - it isn’t velvety smooth but it’s close, a little more on the side of natural. Brian is utterly still, eyes half-open, breathing soft and unlabored. He’s a precious, wiry thing, hands resting splayed on Griffin’s thighs.

Griffin tugs Brian’s head back with a sharp pull at his hair, and Brian’s jaw drops, revealing the shape of his tongue, his teeth, the back of his throat.

“Fuck,” Griffin whispers, and he drives his cock into Brian’s mouth. Brian shudders, blinks fast, but he doesn’t hesitate to close his mouth, lips wrapping tight, snug around Griffin’s dick - Griffin groans, twists his fingers through Brian hair and snaps his hips again, hitting the back of Brian’s throat, grazing the hard palate.

Brian struggles closer, sucking hard, and Griffin doesn’t stop pushing his hips in and out of Brian’s mouth. It’s a slow coil in his abdomen and he comes with another gasp and a low groan, almost unexpected, shivering as he fills up Brian’s mouth and deep into his throat.

Brian stays still for a few seconds and then dips his head, sliding his mouth off the cock. Griffin laughs again, more breathlessly, and collapses back onto the bed, crawling with his elbows and scrambling with his legs. Brian joins him a minute later, tucked into Griffin’s side, and they lie like that, catching their breath, staring at the ceiling.

“You coming back tomorrow after work?” Griffin says. He knows he’s being bold so he tilts his head, looks down at Brian and smiles.

“If you’ll have me,” Brian says, garbled in Griffin’s neck. “But I can stick around for a bit, right?” Brian drapes his arm around Griffin’s waist, squeezes his hip.

“Sure,” Griffin mumbles, tangling his fingers in Brian’s hair. “Just for a bit.”

“Just for a bit.”


End file.
